


Change of Plans

by Thevoidbetweenus



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Suicide mention, basically how they got together idk, it's the only thing I've been able to write for ages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10038914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevoidbetweenus/pseuds/Thevoidbetweenus
Summary: Everything was laid out.  Through careful, meticulous planning, the blackmailer would finally get what he had been wanting so desperately.The witch had been confused by his request, of course, but she agreed to help him out.  The rest of the mafia remained blissfully unaware of his scheme.  When there was a knock on his door, deep in the night, Giovanni braced himself.  Sure, he had planned his own death, but that didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.  He opened the door with a shaky hand, fully expecting to see a bewitched Emilio holding up a gun.He was quite disappointed when he instead found himself face to face with the spy, that meddlesome bastard!





	

Everything was laid out.  Through careful, meticulous planning, the blackmailer would finally get what he had been wanting so desperately.  

The witch had been confused by his request, of course, but she agreed to help him out.  The rest of the mafia remained blissfully unaware of his scheme.  When there was a knock on his door, deep in the night, Giovanni braced himself.  Sure, he had planned his own death, but that didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.  He opened the door with a shaky hand, fully expecting to see a bewitched Emilio holding up a gun. 

He was quite disappointed when he instead found himself face to face with the spy, that _meddlesome bastard_! 

"What?" Giovanni hissed, prepared to slam the door shut. 

"Before you start threatening to blackmail me," the spy began, "I just want to talk.  Usually the secret plots I overhear aren't suicidal.  What is wrong with you, huh, asking the witch to make the mafioso kill you?" 

A million curses ran through the blackmailer's head at that moment, and he promptly slammed the door.  Unfortunately for him, the spy had reached out to stop said slamming, apparently anticipating it. 

"Go.  Away," Giovanni glared intensely at the taller man, who was clearly not impressed. 

"You know," Sorin commented, "now I see why you don't talk at all during the day.  Your accent is super obvious.  What, did you just step off the boat?" 

The mafia member pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Why are you here, Sorin?" 

"Because you've arranged your own death and I want to know why anyone would do that." 

"You want to stop me?  Convince me that I can live on and enjoy life?" 

"Er..." The spy looked embarrassed now, and he rubbed the back of his neck.   "I guess that was part of the plan?" 

"You're an idiot." 

"Hey now, that's not very nice." 

"I'm not nice." 

"Clearly," Sorin muttered.  He took an appraising glance at Giovanni, who he'd always admired a bit from afar (he was much into the silent type, and the blackmailer certainly fell into that category).  The mafia member had large bags under his eyes, his black hair fell limply around his face, and he had chewed his fingernails to stubs.  There was something lurking in his expression – perhaps desperation?  Whatever it was, it evoked sympathy from within the town member, who was willing to admit that saving a blackmailer was probably stupid. 

But hell, he could appreciate a man who managed to dig up as much dirt as Giovanni did by simply listening.  "Aren't you going to let your guest in?" 

"You're impossible," the blackmailer replied, but he stepped aside.  The spy was a bit surprised by this development, so he walked inside with some trepidation.  It could be a trick, after all.  Maybe the blackmailer's whispering with the witch had all been a ruse - 

But one look at the singular envelope resting on the coffee table eased Sorin's doubts.  For some reason, the mob member had every intention of dying tonight.  "You never answered my question.  Why?" 

"If I die...perhaps people will finally look at me," answered Giovanni, who was steadfastly avoiding the spy's gaze. 

"That seems like a fairly ridiculous reason to want to die." 

"Why are you even arguing it?  Your enemy will be dead.  We're essentially flip sides of a coin – and it's going to land in your favor now.  Town will win this battle." 

Sorin frowned.  "I'll tell you what – how about you reschedule with the witchy-poo.  In the meantime, I'll try to give you a reason to stay, yeah?" 

"No." 

"Yes."  The spy seemed rather determined now.  "Come on, Giovanni." 

The blackmailer stared at his adversary rather blankly for several minutes, but eventually he gave in, shoulders slumping in defeat.  "Fine.  But you're not going to be able to convince me of anything, you stupid, meddlesome, ridiculous man." 

"I have ways." 

Giovanni rolled his eyes.  "Oh, I'm sure." 

The mafia member was about to sit down, not really intending to call this whole thing off, but Sorin had grabbed his hand and promptly dragged the blackmailer outside.  "Listen, Giovanni – there's plenty of reasons to stick around, you know.  Like, if you die, how will you ever see the stars again?" 

"You assume I care about such mundane things." 

The spy sighed heavily.  "Well, I suppose I didn't really expect you to make this easy on me..." 

"Of course not.  I already told you, nothing you say or do can make me change my mind." 

"We'll see."  Sorin was now taking this as a challenge, and he hated losing.  He hated losing more than he hated the mafia, even.  "We're going to stargaze and you're going to like it." 

"This is ridiculous." 

"No, what's ridiculous  is scheming to get the witch to force the mafioso to kill you when you could just act suspicious and get yourself lynched, or even better you could try living - " 

"Don't preach at me," the blackmailer huffed indignantly, looking rather irritated now.   

"You have to admit that you've made this way too convoluted!" 

"...I don't want to be lynched.  I'm no jester," Giovanni growled.  "I refuse to be a public spectacle, and the godfather won't let me have a gun!  Emilio keeps too close a watch on his, and it's not like I'm going to go fight a vigilante or a veteran for one." 

Well, Sorin supposed he could understand the reasoning, after it was explained.  The town tended to cheer and jeer when folks were lynched – at least if Giovanni were shot, he wouldn't be able to hear the laughter, the joy - 

"…Fair enough," the towns member murmured, looking over at the blackmailer with an odd expression.  He led Giovanni to a little meadow, filled with daisies, and he pulled a little blanket out from his trench coat.  He spread it across the ground then sat, patting the spot next to him.  "Come on, then – at least let me show you the stars before you let yourself die." 

"Rowena is going to be mad that I'm not there tonight," the blackmailer muttered, though he did sit down next to Sorin.  He picked a daisy and he reached up to tuck it behind his own ear.  "Did you know these were my favorite flowers?" 

"No – but I do now."  The spy flashed him a grin.  "What a cutie – daisies, eh?"   He leaned back, seemingly a bit bored.  "So what if the witchy is angry?  It'll just make her want you dead more, right?  Maybe she'll have Emilio – good to know the mafioso's name, by the way – kill you even more painfully!" 

"I'm not a cutie!" Giovanni sputtered, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks.  "I don't care if you catch the mafia – they were always ignoring me anyways.  And 'Tonio isn't done with law school yet, so...he can't save me." 

"You should wait until he graduates, then – this mysterious...Antonio? Surely he'll be able to whisk you  away and you can ride off into the sunset-" 

"He's my brother, idiot.  Not my far away lover." 

"Oh, good. I think you need a lover more close by." 

"I think I should go home." 

"Oh, come on..." Sorin lowered his sunglasses to look Giovanni in the eyes, a smirk on his lips.  "Won't you give me a chance, Giovanni?  What've you got to lose?" 

Giovanni knew he shouldn't.  

Then again, Sorin was hot. 

But...no, no, he shouldn't - 

Oh, to hell with it. 

"...Fine.  You get one week, or I'm going to go through with my plan." 

What could it hurt? 

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to tumblr but I figured I may as well post it too, since Sorin is probably my best character and I wanted more fluffy things up on here I guess. I dunno. Thanks for reading!


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